Bound
by RaggedySherlock
Summary: Sam and Dean work on a case after two people mysteriously die in their sleep. But when Cas shows up, the boys realize that something is seriously wrong, and the boys gain an unexpected partner in the hunt. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Credit goes to the creators and writers of these characters.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

A young man sits on his bed.

There is no particularly extraordinary quality about this young man, except for the fact that he is going to die tonight, at the early age of seventeen. Actually, no, no, the only extraordinary _qualities_ about him are his death circumstances _and_ his twin sister, who, at the moment, is asleep in her room. It is 2 o' clock in the morning.

This young man's sister is actually quite important to the story, but, for right now, we'll talk more about the brother. She'll come into play in due time.

This particular boy has dreamt about his death for some time now—not because he is suicidal, but because he has been having visions of it. He feels that something is trying to warn him, but being only human he can only assume that the dreams are nothing more than dreams, or that there is nothing he can do to stop them from coming true. He is actually quite practical.

He stares out his open window into the darkness of the night—or, rather, the very early morning. He believes that this will be the night that he dies, if his dreams prove to be true. He just hopes, for his family's sake, that they will not notice until they wake up at 7:30. With his father's death earlier that week, it has been hard to get his mother to go to sleep.

The young man notices a dark shape climbing towards his window, and he knows that the time has come. His hands begin to shake and he realizes something—he doesn't want to die. But what is he supposed to do about it now? Running away could only put his family in danger, and his own death would probably be loud, slow, and painful as a result. He dreamt that he would die at the hands of a powerful creature, though he never did see the face of the creature. In fact, he never _did_ see much in those dreams at all, except that he died as a result of a thing climbing through his window. The cons outweigh the pros by a longshot. So he stays put, even though silent tears are now running down his face.

The dark shape opens the window, letting in a summer's night breeze. The shape appears to be human, with the tall, towering gait of a man. The shape looks the young man, but the young man cannot make out any defining features on the dark shape, and his breathing is becoming rapid. The shape moves across the room, nearly tripping over the young man's shoes in the process. The shape merely flips on the lights.

The young man is staring into the dark eyes of another man. He wears a black suit and has a rather weak-looking jaw. His dark brown hair is combed back neatly, and his shoes are shinier than the silver the young man's mother keeps locked in a drawer downstairs. Of all the things that this young man thought he would be killed by, this gentleman was definitely not one of them.

"Don't look so surprised," says the other man. "You've been dreaming about this for months, haven't you?"

The young man nods.

The other man sighs. "Yes, yes, thought so. Your name is Thomas, right? Thomans King? Yes. Pleased to meet you." His voice was surprisingly soft. The gentleman holds out a hand.

Thomas blinks, but does not shake the man's hand. "Are you… are you going to kill me?" Thomas asks, his voice unsure and shaky.

The man smiles sadly. "On the contrary, Thomas, you're already dead."

Thomas looks around, surprised, and then he notices that his own body is slumped over next to him from where he sits on his bed.

"What?" Thomas says, emotions mixing together in his chest. "But I didn't feel anything."

"Yes, yes, I thought I'd be kind to you," the man says, a hint of impatience in his voice. "You're just a kid. And you weren't supposed to die yet, anyway, so I thought I'd show you mercy."

"That doesn't make sense," Thomas replies.

"It's better this way," the man says. "Now come with me. There isn't much time to lose."

"Wait." Thomas stand from his spot on the bed, looking at his own dead body. His eyes are closed, his face looks peaceful. There are still damp lines on his face from crying earlier. "Who are you?" Thomas finally asks.

The man shrugs. "I'm your Reaper. I usher souls to where they need to go after death."

"Then why did you say that I wasn't supposed to die?"

The Reaper sighs. "It's very complicated. Someone pretty much has me on a leash and is controlling my actions and I can't really stop it or say no. I'm trapped. And they put _you_ on my list of souls to collect. So sorry. Now come with me, please, unless you want to stay here for all eternity as a consciousness slowly going crazy and deteriorating into something in-between existence and non-existence with no peace or rest because you're too sentimental to leave this life behind. Will you follow me?"

The Reaper holds out his arm as if to say, _after you. _Thomas walks forward, and the Reaper ushers him towards his bedroom door. The Reaper opens the door, a bright white light blinding Thomas for half a second before they step through to the afterlife.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 1_**

**_Scottsbluff, Nebraska_**

Sam Winchester sits in a motel room, idly looking through news reports on his laptop, trying to find another case to take on. Most of the stuff he finds is junk and not worth his time, but sometimes something catches his eyes. He glances up as Dean, his brother, enters the room carrying a fast-food bag.

"What's up, Sammy?" Dean says nonchalantly.

Sam has been looking over an article for several minutes, thinking that maybe he's found a case. It's not much to go on, but he has a feeling that something's off. There's no such thing as a coincidence when it comes to hunting.

Dean tosses his jacket onto the bed and pulls out a burger from the bag and promptly unwraps it, taking a large bite. "So, you got anything?" Dean asks, his mouth full.

Sam looks at the computer screen. He did have something, and he had a bad feeling that something was off. But the problem was, the case itself sounded like a weird coincidence or just accidents. He knew that Dean wouldn't go for just anything, especially not just a gut feeling. He might think that Sam was getting visions again, and the narrator is _pretty_ sure that we all know how that turned out.

Sam glances over at Dean, and then back to the computer screen. "Yeah, maybe."

"So let's hear it," Dean says, swallowing.

Trying to make it sound as interesting as possible, Sam rattles off the usual facts. "Georgetown, Colorado. Two people die in the same week from unknown causes. Both victims were related, and neither had previous diseases or conditions. Both just drop dead out of nowhere in the middle of the night in the night. No signs of a murder or suicide."

"Poison? Drugs?" Dean asks.

"It says that the surviving members of the family said that neither victims drank or took drugs."

Dean nods. "What were their names?"

"Mike and Thomas King. Father and son."

"You sure it's not just some coincidence or something?" Dean asks skeptically.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know man. But I think we should go."

Dean shrugs, figuring that Sam would pull the 'we've driven farther for less' card. "Well, if it turns out to be nothing, then you're paying for gas." If there was one thing that Dean knew about Sam, it was that he was stubborn as hell.

"Fair enough," Sam says, closing the laptop.

That night, they had packed up and were in the car. The drive wouldn't take too long; a couple hours, maybe a day at most. Sam and Dean had been to Colorado a few times, but the town Georgetown was unheard of to the Winchesters' ears. The town was, apparently, really small, and used to be a mining town back in the day. Dean had already come to the conclusion that it was either a family curse or a vengeful spirit, but Sam had other thoughts.

Whatever this was, Sam was sure that this was not any normal circumstances. Vengeful spirits usually handed out slow, painful deaths like they were dealing cards. This was too quiet for a vengeful spirit, and a curse seemed unlikely. Sam had done all the research he could on the Kings, and found little on the family.

The drive was normal and like any other, with Dean playing ACDC too loud and trying to sing, and Sam giving him strange looks. Sam fell asleep about halfway through. The closer they got to Colorado, the more difficult it got to breathe. The altitude of the town would make it slightly hard to breathe, but it was nothing that Sam and Dean couldn't handle.

When they rolled into town, a little after seven, Dean was surprised to see that most of the shops and restaurants were closed, despite the seemingly "early hour".

"Does this whole freaking town close at 6?" Dean says angrily. "What is this, the 1800's?"

Sam looked skeptically at Dean, internally questioning his mental health, but not saying anything out loud. For some reason, the small town made Sam nervous. He was questioning his intuition—why was he having such strong feelings about coming here? It has been years since Sam last had visions or his telekinetic abilities, or even since he exorcised demons with his mind. Ever since Lilith died, and ever since Ruby, Sam had been free from all of that.

"Not even the freaking bar is open!" Dean shouted.

"Dean, just calm down," Sam said. "Let's just… go to that hotel, and we'll check in and start this in the morning."

Dean scowled at the steering wheel. "Fine."

Dean made a U-turn, driving the Impala back to the other side of the small town.

"Whatcha got, Sammy?" Dean asked, a towel around his shoulders.

"Apparently, this place was an old mining town," Sam said, scrolling through a website on his laptop. "It's mostly just for tourists now. Some of the locals run their own businesses in town. I bet everyone's got to know about the murder."

Dean shrugged. "We'll go talk to the vics tomorrow." Dean pulls out a flask from his coat, which is draped around a chair. Dean lies down on the bed with a sigh. Sam can tell that Dean thinks they're wasting their time here, when a suddenly _whoosh_ and a soft breeze wafts around the room.

Castiel stands in their doorway. "Hello, Dean. Sam."

Dean sits up from where he sits on the bed. "Cas? What are you doing here?"

Castiel walks in further, and suddenly Sam is aware of the cut just above his eyebrow, which is bleeding. Cas's walk is unstable, and Dean jumps up to help steady him.

"Whoa, take it easy there," Dean says. "You alright?"

Cas looks around. "Where are we?"

"Georgetown. Colorado. What happened? Are you alright?" Dean asks again.

"No," Cas says bluntly. "You are unsafe here. You should leave."

"What?" Dean replies. "How could we be unsafe here? The whole town closes at freaking 6 o' clock!"

"No. There is something very wrong here. We need to leave." Cas gathers himself and starts packing for the Winchesters.

"Hey, hey!" Sam says, standing up. "You want to tell us what's going on here?"

Cas looks up at Sam towering over him. "A Reaper has gone missing."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 2**_

Dean looks at Castiel, confused. A Reaper? Missing? What? "What does that mean?"

"It means that a Reaper has somehow been captured, or has possibly gone off on its own. Either way, it is unsafe for everyone in this town. Especially you two. Now come on, we're leaving." Castiel looks at the clock on the desk at which Sam is sitting. "We don't have much time."

"Wait, wait, how do you know? About the Reaper?" Sam asks.

"Those two deaths—the boy and his father. They were not supposed to die, not yet. The boy was supposed to live for a very long time, and his father at least another ten years. Something is upsetting the natural order to things, and the domino effect could be massive."

"But how can a Reaper go missing?" Sam asks.

"I don't know. It's a very confusing situation. It's never been done before and it's… I don't know how to fix it."

Dean's eyes softened as he saw how desperate Cas was to help. But when people were in danger, Dean had no choice but to stay.

"Cas, we can't just leave," Dean said. "Not when innocent people are dying."

"Dean—"

"I'm serious. We're not going anywhere."

Cas stared at Dean, and then at Sam. "Alright. I guess you're not going to go anywhere. And I'm not in any shape to… to…"

Cas collapses on the floor, and the brothers scramble to catch him.

"Whoa, whoa, what's wrong?" Sam asked, pushing Cas up in to an upright position.

"There's a… a sort of seal over this town. I had to break it to get in, and it's… drained me."

"Seal? What do you mean?" Dean asks.

"Like a protective covering. It's keeping the people in town, and it's keeping other monsters and supernatural beings out. Like demons. Like me."

"So what are you saying? You can't leave?" Dean helps Cas sit on the bed.

"Not anymore. The seal... it has just repaired itself."

Dean looks up at Sam. "Great. This is just great. We got a powerless angel and nowhere to start hunting this thing. We don't even know what it is!"

"To hide a Reaper would take incredible power," Cas states wearily. "More than just the usual demon."

"Angel?" Sam asks.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"And you think it's connected to the case?" Sam asks.

Cas bobs his head yes.

Dean frowns, annoyed. "Damn it," he whispers under his breath. "Well, we better start looking up lore, then."

* * *

**_Georgetown, Colorado_**

**_9:30 AM_**

Dean slams the book shut, sighing in annoyance. No one ever fell asleep that night, except for Cas, who passed out to recuperate. Sam is surrounded by empty Styrofoam cups that had recently contained coffee, and the same applies to Dean.

"I've got nothing," Dean says hoarsely.

Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Me either."

Dean turns in his chair, looking at Cas, who is asleep on top of the covers of the bed.

"Castiel!" Dean says inconsiderately.

Cas's eyes snap open, and he sits bolt-upright. "What?" he asks, irritated.

"Do you have _no_ information to offer?" Dean spits.

Cas opens his mouth to reply, but never gets to say anything.

"Oh, God, don't start fighting _now_," Sam says, rubbing his forehead. "Cas, do you have any ideas? Anything at all?"

Cas blinks, thinking. "We need more evidence before we can make any proper deductions. We need to talk to the family."

"Yeah. Yeah, good idea." Sam yawns widely. It's a wonder he doesn't dislocate his jaw.

Sam and Dean go and get dressed in their Fed disguises, grabbing fake ID's off the table. Today they were going as agents Randy Meisner and Peter Criss, and, though Cas offered to help, Dean insisted that he stayed behind to read up on lore and town history. As had been said before, Cas's people skills were "rusty."

With the family's address in mind, Dean and Sam walked out of the hotel, turning their heads at the sound of a siren down the street. Red and blue lights were flashing.

"What's going on?" Sam asked Dean. "Is that the house?"

"Yeah, it looks like it," Dean says, and they both take off running in the direction of the sirens and lights.

People were gathered around an ambulance down road, where a body bag on a stretcher was being loaded into a van.

Dean and Sam pulled out their fake badges when a police officer came to confront them about passing the police tape.

"FBI," Dean says.

"FBI? What are you guys doing here?" the police officer said.

"We were sent up yesterday when we heard about the kid," Sam explains hastily. "So, is this another one? Same as the boy and the father?"

The police officer nods. "Yeah. The only one left is the girl. She found her mother this morning."

"Do you mind if we talk to her?" Dean asks.

"No, no, go ahead."

The boys dodge paramedics who are cleaning up and police officers who are talking in quiet voices and writing things down on notepads and taking pictures. Dean marvels at how many police officers there are in a small town like this.

They find the girl in the living room, sitting on a couch, her head in her hands. An old woman, presumably a neighbor, sits next to the girl and rests a hand on her knee.

"Ms. King?" Sam asks, pulling out the badge from his suit pocket. "FBI. We just have a few questions."

The old woman stands up. "Won't you just leave her alone? She's had a rough week, couldn't you—"

"No, no, it's fine," the girl says, raising her head. She wipes tears off her face, and her cheeks are red and her eyes are raw from crying. "I'll answer whatever you want."

The old woman gives the girl a look, and then walks into the other room with a dirty glare to Dean and Sam.

The two sit down across from the girl. In short, she was very plain-looking, with wavy brown hair and a clear complexion, except that she was quite short and her eyes were a striking shade of blue.

"Ms. King—" Sam started.

"Jenny, please," she said, almost automatically. She didn't crack a smile. "Call me Jenny."

Sam smiles. "Of course. Jenny. Um, have you noticed anything... _weird_ around your family the past couple of weeks?"

"Weird how?" she asks.

Sam shrugs. "Suspicious behavior, jumpiness, secretiveness… Anything at all."

Jenny shakes her head after a moment. "No. No. Everything was normal, until my dad died, of course. And then we were just… sad. You know?"

Sam nods.

Dean leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "Did you know of anyone who might want to hurt your father, or anyone in your family? Anyone in town that might hold a grudge?"

Jenny thinks again, and then shakes her head. "We mostly kept to ourselves. We would talk to the neighbors, of course. We would go into town, but we never really gave anyone reason to not like us."

Sam sighs slightly, and then asks, "Have you noticed anything about the house that was… out of the ordinary? Cold spots, electrical problems?"

Jenny narrows her eyes, but doesn't question. "No, not really. Though… it was cold in my brother's room when I found him in the morning. At least ten degrees colder than the rest of the house. And the same with… the rest of my family. When we found them."

Sam and Dean share a look. "Okay," Dean says. "And who found the bodies?"

"Me."

"All of them?" Sam inquires, surprised.

"Yes." She pauses for a moment. "I know how that sounds, but… I swear, I didn't kill them. I didn't… they were my family."

Dean smiles grimly at her. "We believe you."


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 3_**

**_Georgetown, Colorado_**

**_10:00 AM_**

Jenny King rushes furiously around the house, packing things everything she might need into a backpack for the week—granola bars, water bottles, a change of clothes, a jacket, a roll of money, a handgun with an extra magazine of bullets. She laces up her boots and grabs the keys off the counter and fast-walks outside, locking her front door behind her.

Yes, she knew that those FBI agents told her to stay in town, but why should she listen to them? They weren't really FBI agents, she could tell that just by looking at them. And the poor choice of aliases didn't help their case, either. Being a hardcore classic rock fan, Jenny knew that Randy Meisner was the bass-player of the Eagles, and Peter Criss was the drummer for KISS.

She didn't kill her family. She wasn't a murderer. That wasn't why she was trying to leave town. But she had noticed more than she had let on to the fake FBI agents, and she wasn't going to stick around for it to kill her. The truth was, she had been seeing a strange man in suit wandering around the streets and in her house, and when Jenny had pointed it out nonchalantly to her mother, Jenny had been the only one able to see him. And then he disappeared.

So, either Jenny was going crazy, or there was an invisible man in her house. Either way, she wasn't going to stick around to be put in an asylum or arrested for a crime she didn't commit.

Unlocking the car in her driveway, Jenny put on sunglasses and ducked her head down—it wouldn't make much of a difference, but Jenny was pretty short—only about five feet, four inches—and there was a chance that she wouldn't be seen by her neighbors anyway.

She climbed in, put the key in the ignition, and was about to start it when a voice stopped her.

"I believe you were directed to stay in town," the gravelly voice said.

Jenny jumped, her sunglasses falling off her head and into her lap. She looked over to her passenger seat, seeing a man sitting there. He wore a trench coat and had intense blue eyes and brown hair. Jenny sighed in annoyance, knowing she was caught.

"Are you with those two guys?" she asked. "Those agents?"

He nodded silently.

She looked at her hands on the steering wheel. "I know they aren't really FBI agents."

The man looked in, his eyes unnerving to her. He looked like he wanted to say something.

After a few moments, she asked "Are you alright?"

He was silent.

She sighed. "I have to go somewhere. I… I'm going to die. My whole family's dead. I can't just… just sit around waiting for me to die next."

"Have you seen anything?" the man asks.

Jenny was quiet for a moment, contemplating over whether or not she should tell him. For some reason, this man brought all of Jenny's senses to a peak. He seems very powerful to her, like a soldier in disguise. He seems trustworthy enough, but he also scares the hell out of her.

She figured she should tell the truth—if she lies, she figured this man would be able to see right through her.

"A man," she answers finally. "A man in my house that no one else seems able to see."

"What does he look like?"

"What does it—"

"Answer the question," he says sternly.

The hairs on Jenny's neck stand on edge. The room seems to be filled with electricity.

"He wore a black suit, and had dark hair. He had really shiny shoes. And… he had a watch. An old, golden fob watch. Um, and I think he had brown eyes. Dark brown eyes."

The man nods. "You'll have to come with me."

* * *

Jenny stumbles to the floor. A second ago, she had been in the car, but now she was in what looked like a hotel room. The strange man stood next to her, unfazed.

"What the hell—" Jenny starts, but then she realizes that she's not alone. The two fake FBI agents are also there—the tall one sits at a desk with a laptop, and the green-eyed one sits on the bed with a large book and a flask. The two boys look up upon their arrival.

"Cas," the green-eyed one says, "what are you…? I thought that the seal made you powerless."

"Not completely. I can still fly within town, but not outside. And it take quite a lot of energy to take a passenger with me." Jenny looks at the man, seeing that his eyes were slightly bloodshot. "She has something to confess."

Jenny stands, looking around at the three men. "What the _hell_ is going on here?"

The boys fall silent, so she continues.

"A second ago, I was in my car, and now I'm—where am I? And who the hell are you? You didn't even tell me your name and then you kidnap me?"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," the tall one says. "One thing at a time."

Jenny gives him the dirtiest look she can manage, and he subtly takes a step back. "Calm down? I'm kidnapped and the only thing you think to say to me is 'calm down'?"

No one answers.

"Fine," she says coldly. "A second ago I was in my car, and now I'm not. Where am I?"

"You're still in town," the green-eyed one says. "You're just in the motel down the road."

"Spectacular," she spits at him. "And who the hell are you?"

"I'm Sam," the tall one says. "Sam Winchester. And this is my brother, Dean." He motions to the green-eyed one.

"And I am Castiel," the strange man said.

Jenny eyes all of them suspiciously. "Alright," she said, not quite trusting. It's quiet for a moment, in which Sam sighs and goes back to his desk.

Dean looks at Jenny. "How old are you?" he asks.

Jenny swallows. "Twenty-two."

Castiel stiffens, and Jenny thinks he can tell she's lying. She's really only seventeen, but these two brothers don't look like they'd take a seventeen-year-old seriously.

Dean nods. "So, Cas said that you have something you want to confess to us."

"Yeah," she says. She tells Dean about the man that she's been seeing in her house.

After she gets done explaining, Dean turns to Castiel. "Is that our Reaper?"

"It would seem so," Cas says. "As for why she can see it, that is beyond me."

Jenny's eyes flick between the two boys. "Can… can someone tell me what's going on?"

Her anger had long since faded, replaced by fear and regret. She didn't think that these boys would hurt her—in fact, it seemed quite the opposite—but something was killing off her family, and she had a feeling that it was coming for her next, and, frankly, she wasn't in the mood to die. She was turning eighteen in just a few weeks—on June nineteenth. She had been accepted to Columbia College. She was going to escape this godforsaken town. She was going to get out and into the world—but now her family was dead. And instead of sad and tired from her family's deaths, she was angry—because she knew that this wasn't just a normal death. She knew it was more than that.

Dean turns to Sam, giving him a look that said _your turn. _Sam sighs and stood up, walking over to Jenny.

"So, you know all those myths and legends you heard? Werewolves, vampires, ghosts?"

Jenny nods silently, predicting where this conversation is going.

"Well, it's all true."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Georgetown, Colorado**_

_**10:45 AM**_

Jenny looks at Sam sadly, frowning. She was kind of expecting it—what else was there to believe?

Jenny nodded. "I was afraid of that."

Sam blinked and turned to look at Dean. He looked just as surprised as Sam.

"Really? That's all? No doubts? You're not going to slap me and say 'you're lying'?"

Jenny shrugged. "Is he… not human?" she asked, looking to Castiel.

Sam stared at her, surprised. "Yeah. He's an angel."

"Angel, of course. What else would he be?" she says, mostly to herself.

"How… how did you know that he wasn't..?"

"Intuition," she says shortly. "So, does that mean that there's a God?"

"There's more than just God. There's gods and goddesses, demi-gods, half-humans, monsters, faeries..." Sam trails off.

"Witches?" Jenny asks nervously.

Sam nods.

"I hate those."

Sam scoffs. "Trust me, they're a lot worse than you think."

"Great," she sighs. "So, what do you guys do? Just, track them down? Kill them?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Sam says.

"So what's a 'Reaper'?" Jenny asks.

"It's a creature that sort of takes souls and ushers them into the afterlife, where ever that happens to be for them—heaven or hell," Dean says.

Jenny nods. "And… the one that's in my house, it's missing? How would you do that? Wouldn't someone sort of keep tabs on them?"

"Well, that's the point. Somehow, this thing has escaped or… or something, and now it's going after whoever it wants to take out."

Jenny looks down at her shoes. "So. This… thing. Would it like its job?"

Sam looks surprised. "I-I guess. Why?"

"Would it want to do it correctly?"

"Yes…?" Sam looks at Jenny suspiciously.

"Well, if it liked its job and it wouldn't want to do anything wrong, then maybe it's not doing this on its own. Maybe somehow it's being _forced_ to do something out of the ordinary _by_ something. Or someone. Like, blackmail or something."

Sam's eyes widen in realization. "Dean, do you think that there's any way to bind a Reaper?"

Dean stares at Jenny. "Are you freaking serious? She figured this out before us and she hasn't even been here twenty minutes!"

"Cas?" Sam asked, excited.

Cas had been standing quietly by the door ever since they arrived, watching. "I think she may be right. I… I don't see how I hadn't caught it before. But to summon a Reaper and bind it would be very complicated… and we still don't know who's commanding it, and we don't have any way to protect Jenny from it."

"Is there any way to hide?" Jenny asks.

"Hide from death?" Dean asks rhetorically. "No, we don't exactly have a magic potion for that, sorry."

Jenny and Sam both shoot Dean a look, though Sam's more said _Dean, behave_ and Jenny's said _I will skin you, and you will be awake when it happens._

"We could trap it. I'm not sure I could break the binding," Castiel says. "I'm not at full power."

Dean nods, and moves to get something from his backpack—a can of spray paint. He moves to the door and starts to draw a circle on the floor with the paint.

"No, wait," Jenny says. "Do it by the window."

"What—"

"Just trust me."

Dean gives her a _whatever you say_ look, and draws the Reaper trap by the window.

"What are we going to do when we capture it?" Jenny asks. "Question it?"

"Best chance we've got," Sam says.

"And there's no way to leave town?" Jenny asks.

"Not until the seal is broken," Castiel says. "Which… which I might be able to do, if we find the right ingredients."

"A spell?" Dean asks.

"Yes," Cas says, beginning to search frantically through the Winchesters' backpacks. "Whatever has the Reaper on a leash is probably also sealing the town. And soon enough, these people are going to starve and run out of supplies. The Reaper seems to be attacking Jenny's family directly, so it won't leave until—"

"Until I'm dead," Jenny finishes. "_That's_ reassuring."

Cas straightens up, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwed shut. "These deaths. They're causing a big disturbance to the natural order of things. This—"

Cas stumbles, and Dean springs up to catch him. "You alright?" Dean asks, holding Cas by the shoulders.

Jenny tries not to notice the concern weaved into Dean's voice—a human, in love with an angel?

"Sorry, I—" Cas looks around, distracted. "It's nothing. I've-I've heard of a weapon that can kill a Reaper, but they're very rare. More rare than the blades we use against angels. More rare than the knife you use against demons."

"So we can't kill it. What are we going to do, talk to it?" Dean says, irritated.

"That sounds like the only thing we _can_ do," Sam says.

"You're not serious."

"Well, have you got a better idea, Dean?" Sam says, spreading his hands hopelessly. "What do you suggest we do?"

Dean has an expression on his face—an idea.

Sam's eyes widen as he has a realization. "No, you're not seriously thinking about that, are you?"

"What?" Cas asks.

"Dean—you do know how much power that takes, right? Besides, we couldn't possibly find all the ingredients." Sam runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Hey, it can't be that hard, can it?" Dean asks, spreading his hands.

"Yes, it can! We're not doing that again!"

"What are you suggesting that we do, Dean?" Castiel asks.

Dean remains silent for the moment, and then he says, "I think we should summon Death."

Jenny, just introduced to this whole new life, sits quietly for the moment. She is trying to make sense of most of this—and from what she's gathered, it's not all _X-Files_ and _Men in Black_. She's wondering what these two have gone through—if they talk casually about fighting demons and angels and witches and demi-gods, what else is out there? Vampires? Werewolves? Ghouls? What was hiding under the staircases, under the beds of little kids? What was out there in the dark?


End file.
